The Butcher's Bill
by Narumi-otooto
Summary: Harry wishes to deny the prophecy, to avoid his destiny. When people start to die things start getting mixed up and Harry finds himself causing more death. All this leads to a final confrontation with Voldemort and a fulfillment of the prophecy
1. Summertime

The Butcher's Bill  
  
Harry lay awake, unmoving, as his alarm blared infront of him. He knew he should wake and join the Dursleys for breakfast. The Dursleys for the first time had been fair to Harry this summer. They ignored him as best they could and divided chores amongst them. This was to Harry's liking in that he was treated better than he had ever been in the past, but it made him horribly sad in that he had plenty of free time. Free time to think about that empty hole in his soul that was once filled by his godfather. With nothing to fill his time he couldn't help but re-examine how the death of Sirius had been his fault. His pride had caused him to ignore the dangers of leaving his mind open to Voldemort's influence and control. He had learned his fifth year that it was pride that was his fatal flaw. Too much like his father he was.  
  
There was a sharp knocking at his bedroom door. "Turn that ruddy clock off! Or is that an unreasonable request?" Harry's uncle called through the door. He had taken up adding that phrase to the end of his sentences whenever asking something of Harry. Despite the fact that Vernon said it with derision and sarcasm it was true, he would only force Harry to do what was reasonable. Harry sighed and pressed the off button to his clock-radio's alarm function and slid out of bed. There were quite a few chores to do and there was no reason to do anything else. He dressed for the day and walked down to the remains of breakfast.  
  
Vernon and Petunia had always discouraged Harry from sleeping late. They had forced him to make their breakfast since he could handle the pots and pans, lately they had only taken to making an obscene amount of noise outside his room if they felt he was sleeping later than was necessary. People staying up late and sleeping late fell under a type of people despised by the Dursleys. Harry never felt like he had much energy anyway, so he took every opportunity to go to bed early.  
  
After the initial wave of strong emotion he had felt in the week after the incident in the Department of Mysteries he had begun to quiet down internally to the point that he felt nothing. No drive to complete anything, no energy to feel strongly about anything. All he had the energy for was being sullen and depressed. And to relive the events and mistakes leading up to the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries.  
  
His dreams were strangely quiet of late, though his scar still hurt from time to time. He figured that Voldemort realized that he had already tricked Harry once that way, and would not be tricked again. He had wondered idly once what Voldemort thought the full wording of their strange prophecy was, but soon lost his energy.  
  
He ate swiftly and finished what scraps of food were left after the other three Dursleys had eaten. Petunia, who was cleaning their dishes, then ordered him in a more polite voice than he had been used to growing up to clean out the bathroom before he weeded the garden. Harry nodded sullenly before gathering up the supplies he would need for both tasks. He set to work, not having said a single word so far that morning.  
  
The bathroom had become very dirty over the last week. Boxing Championships had not been enough for Dudley, who, after the boxing season had ended, had signed up for football. After muddy games Dudley would often fling his uniform up on the countertops and floor of the bathroom where they would wait until Petunia or Harry would pick them up and put them in the wash. This practice led to the state the bathroom was in now. Not even bothering to sigh Harry got to work.  
  
Hours later Harry came in from the garden, having successfully weeded and cut the bushes of flowers that made up the near perfect garden sported upon the Dursleys' lawn. He showered briefly, careful not to let his dirty clothing contaminate the newly clean floor. Afterwards he went upstairs to his room and began to compose a letter to Ron.  
  
He never really said much in the letters he wrote to his friends. He didn't feel he could express his feelings or his true thoughts in a feeble letter. He would write about how his family was being fair and reasonable with him, about how he was holding up fine, even when he wasn't. Especially when he wasn't. He would often tell Ron to say "hello" to his parents or his sister for him. They were the last Weasley children still living at home, Ron and Ginny, and Harry was beginning to worry about the Weasley parents suffering from empty nest syndrome. Despite the empty nature of the letter he was writing it still took him quite a while to finish it. He waited until nighttime to send it, as Hedwig always preferred to fly by night.   
  
As he watched the shadow of Hedwig fly off into the distance he heard a disturbance downstairs. Not really caring he only listened to what was going on, rather than check it out. He heard Vernon's loud voice so he knew it wasn't a burglar. He was only forced into participation when there was a knock on his door accompanied by a rather aggravated Petunia. Harry opened his door to admit her.  
  
She appeared slightly disheveled and Harry could swear she had blood on her hands. This slight uncharacteristic display was explained.  
  
"Duddy got in a fight with some nasty kids, we're taking him to the hospital, he bled all over the bathroom floor, go clean it up right now."  
  
Harry opened his mouth to say the first word all day "Okay."  
  
Petunia looked surprised that he gave in so easily.  
  
"Harry, is there something bothering you?" She said in an unusually soft voice.  
  
"No, nothing." Harry said shortly. Vernon called from downstairs, telling Petunia to hurry up.  
  
"Harry, we'll talk when I get back, please clean the bath again, I'll make it up to you."  
  
This left Harry feeling angry, how dare she try to understand how he feels after fifteen years of neglect and abuse. How does she expect to know how he feels when she's been ignoring him for all of his life?   
  
"Never try to understand the students. They hate it. They would rather be tragically misunderstood, wallow in self-pity..."  
  
The words of Phineas Nigellus bounced around in the back of his mind, but of course they weren't true. He wanted to be understood, but no one could.  
  
"...So arrogant all criticism bounces off him."  
  
The words of Severus Snape recalled him to reality. He was being prideful again, even though his pride had killed his godfather. Harry sighed and went down to clean the bathroom again.  
  
As it turns out, Dudley's gang had been jumped by a rival gang when they strayed too far out of their territory. Harry found this out from the rat-like friend of Dudley's whose name he had forgotten years ago. The gang was in low spirits with its leader hospitalized. Petunia hadn't come home the night it happened. Vernon came home to make sure Harry had cleaned the bathroom and to tell him to go to bed. His aunt had stayed at the hospital with Dudley. Harry was finding he was looking forward to talking to Petunia about his problems. He had not vented his feelings since his talk with Dumbledore a half hour after the event itself, when all he felt was the raw anger and fresh emptiness. Now his feelings had gotten time to settle and he could perhaps feel better after he had told one of his last living family members about what had happened.  
  
It was the day after the incident when Petunia finally came home, but she was so distraught over her son's condition that Harry thought it wise not to bring up his problems to her. A few days later Dudley came home with a sling for a sprained wrist and a few bandages still wrapped around his body. Vernon and Petunia were celebrating him like some sort of war-hero to have sustained such injuries and be putting on such a brave face. The most troublesome part about Dudley being injured was the fact that Harry was now doing Dudley's share of chores as well as his own. This would often leave him worn out at the end of the day, which was a good thing as far as Harry was concerned. The more tired he felt the less depressed he felt.  
  
Several days later it seemed as if Petunia had forgotten about Harry's mysterious lack of argument and was spending all her time comforting the wounded with whatever was requested. Harry did get his reply back from Ron though. It was not nearly so empty as the one he had sent. It contained all kinds of fun anecdotes of him practicing his skills as a keeper, Mrs. Weasley making a dinner for nine people on accident, forgetting that five of them had moved away. It mentioned that Ron hadn't gotten the results of the O.W.L.s yet and was starting to worry that he might have done so horribly that they didn't even bother sending the results back to him. Harry felt a lot better after having heard from a friend. So much better that he started to write his response immediately.  
  
He wrote about how he was finding it difficult to keep busy. He wrote about how Dudley had gotten hurt in a fight. He wrote about how his aunt was acting much more like a human being to him. He wrote and asked how Ron's arms and Ginny's ankle were holding out. He wrote that he wished he could come and live with them in the burrow, but Dumbledore would most likely want him to stay for the whole of the summer. He wrote also to Hermione, but mostly said the same things. He apologized to Hedwig for giving her such a demanding schedule and sent her off.  
  
The next few days passed in a slight daze for Harry. Hedwig had not yet returned with a response from his friends and Petunia had not shown any indication she wanted to talk to Harry at all. He had fallen back into the hopelessness of depression after a brief surge of hope that he would soon be understood by his aunt after so many years. Dudley got better and was soon ready to go out and get his revenge on the other gang. For once Harry's aunt and uncle were putting their feet down and denying him what he wanted. Only once before had such a thing happened, when Dudley had needed to lose weight and had gone on his diet. They were confining him to the house for the most part, afraid that if he went out on his own he would attack those who had attacked him and would be hurt once again. As such, Dudley was loudly complaining and beating on the walls fervently. It was after a few days of this that Hermione's letter arrived.  
  
Hermione wrote that it was good to hear that Harry was getting on better with his Aunt and Uncle, how if his aunt was attempting to open up to Harry that he should seize on the opportunity and talk to her. She wrote that it was too bad that he wasn't keeping busy, that he might want to write Dumbledore and ask if he should continue the lessons offered by the D.A. as a sort of study session club for Defense Against the Dark Arts, but as an official school-sponsored club. Harry thought this was a great idea, teaching the D.A. how to defend themselves with magic was undoubtedly his favorite set of memories from his fifth year. After he finished reading Hermione's letter, Harry quickly began to write the letter to Dumbledore asking permission to do just that. Without the Ministry breathing down his neck anymore and Voldemort and his followers roaming around Dumbledore should be very much inclined to accept such a proposal. Harry was just about to call down Hedwig to send her off again with the message when he noticed she was fast asleep. He remembered then that she had just flown from Harry's to the burrow to Hermione's house and back to Harry's house twice without a good long break from flying. He decided the letter could wait to be sent, it wasn't as if the summer was already drawing to a close. He opened his trunk and withdrew his Christmas gift from Lupin, the bound set of books, Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts, and cracked open volume two.  
  
With the purpose of planning out lessons for the D.A. and learning about new and more powerful defensive spells he felt better every day. He could still hardly wait for the day to come when he'd go back to Hogwarts. At Hogwarts there would be friends and homework and Quidditch to distract him from his thoughts. He sent off the letter to Dumbledore after giving Hedwig a day to rest. He got his response a few days later, the D.A. was approved as an official Hogwarts club. It felt a little hollow though, as an official club there would be no danger, no element of risk that made every day a struggle against tyranny. He would host fund-raisers, publicly. There would be a teacher as a sponsor. It would never be the same as that first exhilarating year, and if this club persisted it would become increasingly ingrained into Hogwarts culture. Nothing of the original would survive. He considered briefly writing to withdraw his request to form the club, but decided against it. It would most certainly need a new name though.  
  
A week passed and then another. He was corresponding back and forth with his two best friends regularly, which was definitely taking his mind off silent brooding as much as anything could. He found himself laying on his back on his bed one day staring up at the ceiling, reliving the fight in the Department of Mysteries again, trying to analyze what was done right and wrong with each situation. Dissecting the emotionless movements back and forth during their desperate struggle for survival felt like it was helping him to think of the events without growing depressed, thinking of how he was to blame for all that transpired that night. He thought of Neville and Luna, how hard they had fought. He suddenly wondered whether Luna was back from Sweden yet, what Neville had done over his holiday. His correspondence with Ginny, usually through her brother, kept him from thinking the same about her. He half got up to start a letter, he was getting used to writing them, but sank back down. Neville he had known for all his five years at Hogwarts, but he had never been his friend. Luna he barely knew, only having met her for the first time a little less than a year ago. It would be very strange for him to be sending them letters as if he were their close friend.  
  
Another week went by, he had taken to writing up his intended lesson plans for the D.A. with the theory that he wouldn't forget them, even though he knew he wouldn't forget a single thing. He was simply occupying his time. Halfway through the next week it finally came… The letter from Hogwarts inviting him back once again to his sixth year and permission to go visit Ron in the Burrow.  
  
They had sorted out the logistics in one owl there and back again. He would leave the next day by means of Floo powder by using the fireplace in Mrs. Figg's fireplace, he would stay the remaining week of break with the Weasleys and then get to London for the Hogwarts Express by whatever means were being used by the Weasleys themselves. Harry was excited that the start of term was so close, he would soon be at his favorite place in the world doing what he liked best. His trunk was packed, his wand lying safely secured within his trunk for while he was in his muggle clothes, which had no real way to carry a wand inconspicuously. Hesitating for a moment, a strange feeling coming over him, he unlocked his trunk and withdrew his wand. Pulling on one of Dudley's old jackets with a dozen holes in it he placed the wand in an inner pocket.   
  
He walked down the street carefully, trying not to attract too much attention. He would be walking into Mrs. Figg's house appearing ready for a long trip and would not be seen coming out. It would look awfully suspicious and if too many neighbors caught sight of such a thing the questions might point towards him running away. He wanted to avoid looking like a deviant child as much as he could when his aunt and uncle were the source of the rumors in the first place. He knocked swiftly on the door to the familiar house he would frequently have stayed at while the Dursleys were on holiday back while he was in normal muggle school. It seemed so long ago the gentle old lady feeding him terribly tasting cakes and boring him to death with album after album of pictures of the various generations of cats she had kept over her years of retirement. Harry had never thought to enjoy these times back then, he having been a child and thus more inclined to play than to sit quietly. He looked back at those times with no small degree of fond remembrance. He supposed that Mrs. Figg filled the role of a grandmother for Harry in some respects.  
  
The door opened and there was Mrs. Figg, batty as ever, and smiling widely.  
  
"Welcome Harry, welcome. Come in." She said, holding the door open and gesturing with her other hand.  
  
"er… yes Mrs. Figg." Harry toted his trunk and covered owl cage through the front door with a little difficulty.  
  
"I've been expecting you, I made a few cookies they're on the table if you want some." Mrs. Figg closed the door behind him and snatched up a cat from the aforementioned table.  
  
"I'm sure you want to see your friends very much after such a long summer not even leaving the house" She said with a sideways look out of her eye.  
  
"I've been busy with schoolwork." Harry lied, not having been assigned anything to work on over the break after the experience of O.W.L.s. It would have been a welcome break if only he wasn't tormented by the memories of the end of the previous term. Mrs. Figg seemed to detect the lie, but let it slip. She busied herself with some tea.  
  
"If you'll stay I'd like to sit and talk a while, it's been so long since the Dursleys have needed me to look after you." Mrs. Figg was getting out two mugs for the tea, it seemed rude to exclaim his hurry to get to Ron's house when this kindly old lady seemed to want just a little bit of company.  
  
"I suppose I'd like to stay just a bit." Harry said truthfully. He sat in a cushy sofa adjacent to the short table, Mrs. Figg sat in the armchair in the corner.   
  
"How's Hogwarts these days Harry?"  
  
"Oh, it's a mad place for a school, but I can think of no place I like better." Harry responded cheerfully, "It was rather hectic last year though, with O.W.L.s and Professor Umbridge. I expect this year to be a little easier, despite N.E.W.T. level classes starting up." Harry frowned, he had not received an Outstanding in Potions. Snape had said specifically that only those who got an Outstanding O.W.L. would even be eligible to take the N.E.W.T. class at all. To become an Auror he needed the N.E.W.T. level class. He just hoped they would take a deficiency if he cleared the other requirements with flying colors, which he would need a lot of work to do.  
  
"You look a little upset, what's wrong?" Mrs. Figg said, regarding his tight face.  
  
"Just worrying about my O.W.L. results." Harry said, shaking his head, as if to say it was nothing.  
  
"I heard about your little rebellion last year, Dumbledore's Army I think you called it? What is going to happen to that?"  
  
"Well, I applied over the summer for it to become an official Hogwarts club and it was accepted, I still need to get a teacher to sponsor it, but I think I can get whoever the next Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is to do so."  
  
"That's nice to hear, do you think you'll still be the leader of the club?"  
  
"Well, no one really thinks I'm nutters anymore, that and I've had even more experience defending myself from the dark arts since last I taught them. I've even come up with a good deal of lesson plans based on my experiences in the Department of Mysteries." That was funny, he said that without flinching or feeling strong emotions build up inside him that time.  
  
"Hrm… I see, perhaps Dumbledore should choose you to be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Mrs. Figg was obviously trying to steer the conversations out of dangerous waters. Harry laughed, sure she was joking, but she looked at him seriously. Their conversation began to stagnate a short time after that.  
  
"Well, I think I'd better get to the Burrow now, they're probably waiting for me." Harry stood up.  
  
"Oh, yes of course, this way." Mrs. Figg led him to the fireplace in her den. The small case of Floo powder was hidden behind a loose brick in the mantle.  
  
"To keep out the cats." Mrs. Figg explained as she drew out the small box and offered it to Harry.  
  
"I think I'm a little low, but it should be plenty for one or two more trips."  
  
Harry smiled at her and set Hedwig free, telling her to fly to Ron's house. He then strapped the cage to his trunk. He drew a pinch of powder from the bottom of the box. The emerald green flames rose up as he threw the dust in and set aside the box. Making sure he had everything with him he called out, "The Burrow" and threw in his trunk, then stepped in himself. The now familiar sensation of traveling over the Floo network gripped him. Once again he was spinning and rushing forward with fireplaces all around when suddenly he felt a jerk. He was now traveling in a very different direction, clearly his route had been tampered with. 


	2. Flight

The now familiar sensation of travelling over the Floo network gripped him. Once again he was spinning and rushing forward with fireplaces all around when suddenly he felt a jerk. He was now traveling in a very different direction, clearly his route had been tampered with. Before he could do anything about it, not that he really thought there was anything he could do about it, he was hurtling through a fireplace. He fell on the ground, not having been expecting such an abrupt shift. He heard a crash as he hit the ground. His glasses were thankfully intact. The ground was cold, hard stone, the room was dark and it felt damp, like a cave despite the fire burning right behind him. Harry was fairly sure this wasn't the Burrow, still he looked up, hoping to see a flash of red hair and four smiling faces looking down at him. Six masked, cloaked figures looked down on him, snickering.  
  
"We almost believed you had thought better than to go to your friend's house, we've been waiting for quite a while now." Said one, casually pointing a wand at him.  
  
Harry pushed himself to his feet, the wand gave a twisting motion and Harry was blasted backwards off his feet. His head rebounded sharply off the hard stone of the mantle. Stars exploded behind his eyes . He vaguely heard shouting somewhere in the distance. He felt as if he were floating momentarily and then suddenly he was on his back and he felt something warm and sticky rolling off the back of his head. One of the dark figures appeared over Harry.  
  
"He's not even unconcious."  
  
There was a short silence before another figure appeared above Harry. This one laughed with a short, feminine laugh before removing it's mask.   
  
"You!" Harry cried out when he realized who it was. He leapt to his feet and lunged at her throat with speed borne of Quiddich training and strength born of pure rage. Belatrix Lestrange looked suprised as Harry's hands closed around her throat. Before he could get a good throttleing going he heard a muttered "Crucio" to his left and before he knew it every nerve in his body carried an urgent message of pain to his brain. His knees buckled and once again he fell ungracefully to the floor. He didn't have time to struggle to his feet again before he felt the tip of a wand prodding him in the back of the neck. A now distinctly feminine voice called out "Crucio"  
  
If his first taste of the Crutacious curse was painful, this redefined his idea of what the word pain means. Pain flowed out from the spot where the wand was touching his skin in waves. Every muscle in Harry's body siezed up, causing him to thrash about violently on the floor. It was almost a full minute before the wand was let up and the echoing pain started to die down.  
  
"I am in control here, if you try to lay a single dirty mudblood finger on me again you will find a world of pain before you die." as if to emphasize her point she jabbed him in midback with her wand and again performed the Crutatious curse. With the wand in this position it no longer issued waves of pain at predictable intervals, it caused a line of pain up and down his spine, each time it got to his brain the world lit up with the fires of agony. At the third iteration of this method he finally cried out in pain as it got to his brain once again. At this point Belatrix withdrew her wand and began to laugh.  
  
"I had nearly forgotten how lovely these screams of anguish are. As you can probably tell I am one of the chief experts in the wizarding world in causing pain. Of course we've had quite an opportunity for a lot of practice. I believe you've met Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom." Belatrix laughed, "Do you know how long it took my husband and I to destroy their minds?" She asked in a cruel, falsely sweet voice. Harry didn't answer.  
  
"Come now, take a guess." Belatrix said, almost teasingly. Harry still did not answer.  
  
"The Longbottoms were quite as reticent as you while still sane, now that they are mad they will probably never say anything again." Belatrix continued.  
  
"If you want to share their fate, by all means keep your lips sealed. But before you are completely mad, where is the base for the Order?"  
  
The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at number twelve Gimmauld place, London  
  
Flashed through Harry's mind, he had to avoid telling them that if it cost him his life. A wand touched the back of his shoulder. The pain had begun again, this time it was a sort of dull pain, and he wondered why she was doing such low impact spots of pain if she was a master of causing pain as she claimed. He found out when she dragged the wand down his arm. The feeling was as if a knife was slicing him open all the way to the bone all the way along the path she traced with her wand. When she got to his elbow she gave the wand a slight twist, causing the muscles there to sieze painfully as if he had just sprained his arm at the elbow. He kept a leash on his cries of pain as much as he could, knowing that it was this that the horrible woman was looking for. After several more passes up and down his arm, after which Harry was certain his arm was cut to ribbons, she let up. Harry sighed with relief when he touched his arm to find unbroken skin.  
  
"Now, I will ask again, and you had better answer this time. Where is the Headquarters of the Order?" Harry once again refused to answer. And so it went, that Belatrix would torture him, then ask him the same question and he would not answer, again and again and again. Soon, her husband joined in, and two wands were an order of magnitude more painful than one. Eventually he could no longer retain his screams, but he could always keep himself from saying what they wanted him to.  
  
He was never allowed a real break, but there were times when his two torturers would converse with the rest of his captors. They would talk about how they would enjoy killing all those he held dear. Ron would apparently be torn limb from limb, then beheaded. Hermione would be drowned in mud, then run through multiple times, so she would become a true mudblood. Mr. and Mrs Weasley would get their necks broken, then their skulls bashed in, but not before they had their 'fun' with Mrs. Weasley in front of her husband. Ginny's fate was the strangest, they would hang her upside down, with her wrists slit, over an open cauldron. They would force her to drink blood-replenishing potions until the cauldron was full. They would then drop her in and boil her in her own blood. Fred and George would get their tongues cut out and be tortured while they bled to death. Dumbledore would be crucified over the course of several weeks, not allowed to die to end his pain for that whole time.  
  
Harry had rolled onto his back while they had been talking back and forth over this, he was breathing hard from all the torture he had been put through, but he focused on the anger he felt at their casual talk of hurting his friends and loved ones. Belatrix came back to his side, no longer really expecting him to answer she simply smiled at him and bent down to place her wand on his side. Harry lashed out, catching her in the face with the toe of his shoe. Using his momentum to roll backwards onto his feet he whipped out his wand which had laid undiscovered the whole of the time he had been in this dark, dank room. The four Death Eaters seated around a table stood and pointed wands at him. Harry shouted, "Protego" at the top of his lungs. Though it came out hoarse because of all the screaming he had done so recently, it was the best shield charm he had ever done. The four stunning curses fired at him bounced away at random angles after hitting an invisible barrier in front of him. The confusion as the Death Eaters scattered to avoid their own stunning spells gave Harry a window of opportunity. He dared not use the fireplace and Floo powder as that was they way he was captured in the first place, he saw only one door and was sure it was locked better than a simple Allohomora spell could penetrate. This left one option, a slight discoloration in the black stone walls made Harry aware of a small window painted black to keep out the sun. He pointed his wand at it and said, "Diffindo" The glass split in two, then shattered.  
  
Harry made a mad dash for the window, spells flying to halt his retreat. He ducked his head just in time to avoid one, just as another grazed his shoulder. He didn't know what spell it was, but the way it sliced open his arm and splattered his blood against the far wall he knew it must have been powerful. And he was at the window. He threw himself out at full tilt. The ground stretched out under him, the room he was in had been on the fourth floor of a building. He was looking down at the street so very far below, and began to fall.  
  
Harry had played Quiddich and knew that from time to time people would fall off their broomsticks, he knew also that when that happened the referee would use a spell to slow their decent to the ground. He knew it existed and knew he had heard it somewhere, if only he could remember...  
  
"Arresto Momentum" He cried  
  
Suddenly Harry felt a jolt, he was no longer falling at a breakneck pace, but was floating down like a feather. His feet hit the ground and he felt the lightness leave him suddenly. He looked back up at the building he had fallen out of. A masked face was looking down on him when suddenly it disappeared. The base of the building now sported all six Death Eaters, Belatrix with her mask back on. Harry suddenly remembered the Death Eaters all had the ability to Apparate, and he didn't. They raised their wands against him and he ran down the street as fast as he could go, spells shattering cobblestone and shopfront alike. He realized he was on Knockturn alley, or someplace exactly like it. This gave him hope, if he could get to Diagon alley they wouldn't dare follow him, and if they did, he could alert Fred and George, who could Apparate to the Order and raise the alarm.  
  
Three masked figures were now in front of him, ducking their near simultaneous Impedimia curses he ran down a small alley between a dingy appartment building and a seedy looking bar. He knew that was a bad idea as soon as he had done it, the cramped quarters in the alley would make it impossible to dodge a barrage of spells issued from the mouth. Harry groaned when he saw the other end of the alleyway, a solid brick wall. He looked back to the mouth of the alleyway. The six Death Eaters were assembled there. He looked back to the end of the alleyway, there was one possible escape. The fire escape ladder was down, leading up to a second floor door leading into the appartment building. He ran to the ladder and began his climb.  
  
He realized this was another bad idea as soon as he had done it. Climbing was umbelievably slow, and he was an easy target for any of his persuers. He shouted once again "Protego" but was sure they would shatter the shield quickly enough. He climbed up the Ladder as quickly as he could manage. Harry felt as much as heard the CRACK of his feeble shield failing, the spell that had managed it hit him in the spine, He had been more focused on the task of climbing the ladder so he didn't hear the incantation, but he could swear it was the Crutatious curse from how much it hurt. His legs suddenly flopped uselessly beneath him. Holding his wand in his teeth he grasped the top rung of the ladder with both hands and desperately pulled himself up. His legs still would not work, so he crawled to the door. As he finally achieved temporary covor inside the appartment building a terrible thought occured to him. He prodded his leg sharply with the tip of his wand. He sighed with relief when he felt the slight pain it caused.  
  
He guessed the jynx he had been hit by was the jelly legs curse, kind of silly for Death Eaters to use, but whatever worked, Harry muttered the counter-curse and stood up. He heard the pop of Apparation and in front of him was a Death Eater. Harry needed a way to remove him from the fight entirely, Stupify would wear off, Petrificus Totalus could be undone by his allies, then he thought of it. His wand. The Death Eater brought his wand to bear on the standing Harry just as Harry threw himself back to the ground. The spell prepared for him sailed over the target, Harry pointed his wand up at the extended wand of his foe. A well placed "Diffindo" sliced the wand cleanly in two.  
  
The Death Eater looked from the short stick which used to be his wand to Harry, who, while laying on the ground, still had his wand. The Death Eater turned tail and ran. It was an oddly humorous sight, seeing the fearsome figure running away. The Death Eaters seemed almost inhuman while in their cloaks and masks, veritable incarnations of fear. It was sometimes hard to remember that they were still human under it all.  
  
Harry picked himself up again, he was doing that quite often today, and sped off down the corridor. There was a series of loud cracks as the rest of the Death Eaters Apparated up behind him. A spell hit him from behind, almost causing him to collapse. It must have been the same one that grazed his shoulder from earlier, because it hit him in the side and felt like it ripped a hole straight through. He didn't dare look though, afraid he'd see his entrails leaking out behind him as he continued to run.  
  
A Death Eater was now in front of him, down the hall, it was too sudden, Harry couldn't bring his wand up in time. He moved his wand to his left hand and threw himself against the door to his right, hoping the frame would give him a little bit of cover. He was suprised when the door gave way before him. He stumbled a few steps into a dark appartment, his unchecked momentum took him over a countertop and onto a grimy tile floor. Harry noted with a rising level of panic that it was much harder to get up this time than it had been the last dozen or so times today. As soon as he got to his feet he heard a crack of Apparation to his left. Standing there, of course, was one of the Death Eaters. Harry found himself flinging something he found in his right hand at the Death Eater. He realized as soon as he had done that that it had been a mistake, it was a kitchen knife, picked up by reflex as he had tumbled over the countertop. He wished with all his might that he might grab it back. Alas, despite his intention the knife sailed end over end through the air. Probably not understanding his impending doom the Death Eater raised his wand at Harry.  
  
"Avada..." but he was cut off there as the knife sank into his throat. Harry looked on in horror as the Death Eater issued forth gurgling noises, trying to breathe past the blade and the rushing blood. He dropped his wand and fell to his knees, clutching at his ruined throat. Harry saw his eyes through the holes in his mask wide with terror, before rolling up into the back of his head. The horror of what he had just done settled in over Harry. Even the sharp cracks of more Death Eaters Apparating in didn't bring him back to reality. When he heard Belatrix's voice, for once not cold and cruel, but soft and horrified say, "No... Rodolphus.... NO!" he came back to his senses. She ran to the side of the fallen figure clad in black. She knelt over his body, gently shaking him, asking him to wake up, that it was all a dream, that this couldn't happen. Harry wondered idly what she was talking about and then suddenly he remembered. Belatrix and Rodolphus... Lestrange. He had just murdered her husband. He suddenly didn't feel much like running anywhere.  
  
Belatrix looked up at him, no longer with just hatred of his kind, of him and people like him, not with just cruelty she felt toward everyone save a few. She looked at him with distilled loathing, the hatred for Harry Potter, the individual who had killed her husband filled her very being, till there was little remaining besides the hate. Harry looked at her with sympathy in his eyes, knowing what it was to lose a loved one, never mind that it was her that caused him to lose Sirius, he knew her pain and felt sorry for her for having to feel it as well as he did.  
  
"I'm sorry." Harry said truthfully, wishing he had not thrown that knife. Belatrix stood up suddenly, pure rage boiling off her in waves. She didn't even have words to express how she felt, so she simply slammed him into the wall as fast and as hard as her magic was capable. When Harry hit the solid wall and felt something give, he wasn't sure at first if it was the wall or himself. When he found himself outside once again, blown all the way through, he thought it was probably both. Harry couldn't muster the willpower or the energy to duplicate the spell that had saved him from falling to his death before. Rather than shatter his skull on hard pavement Harry found the surface he landed on to be soft enough to mitigate some of the impact of falling. He realized he had fallen into a dumpster in an alleyway between two buildings on the next street over from the one he had been before.  
  
The mouth of the alley revealed people crossing back and forth... people wearing normal colored robes, with faces exposed... laughing. Where ever he was it was not Knockturn Alley. He stumbled down the alley, he was near his limits, a human body can only take so much punishment, and his had. People stared as he came out of the alleyway, covered in blood and garbage and dust. He spotted Gringott's on the corner. It was assuredly Diagon Alley. He stopped one of the passersby, "Where is Weasley's Wizarding Wheazes?" The older lady he had stopped pointed in a direction and Harry started off, thanking the lady first.  
  
Luck alone saved his life. He stumbled and fell just as a green flash of light issued from behind him. The rushing sound that accompanied the Killing Curse came closer and closer, and then passed over Harry, carrying on into the chest of a very suprised middle aged man. Harry cursed as he crawled down the road, knowing he would never escape if he couldn't get to his feet, and he couldn't get to his feet. Belatrix was behind him, as were the remaining three Death Eaters.  
  
"I see you've gotten yourself into a heap of trouble again." Someone said up ahead of him. "Almost worthy of one of us." Said another voice very much like the first. Harry lifted his head. Fred and George, hands casually on their wands in mirrored stances stood in the middle of the newly cleared road, Lee Jordan behind them and to their left, looking a little scared. Angelina Johnson looking very brave stood next to him, wand out.  
  
"Seems like odds were a touch long... four against one?" Fred inquired  
  
"Those sound like Bagman odds.." George nodded  
  
"Or Weasley odds." Fred said, grinning  
  
"It was six against one, but he... he..." Belatrix shouted  
  
"Good show Harry, give em back better than you take." George said cheerily  
  
"He... he killed my husband." Belatrix said, voice shaking with malice. This wiped the grins off the faces of the twins, who looked down at Harry, looks of disbelief on their faces. He wanted to sink into the ground, beyond the sight of people who could look at him and see the murderer he was. Why couldn't he have been murdered instead? how could he live with what he had done? Taken another's life... it was unthinkable.  
  
"I guess that'll teach you to try to, err, teach you to harm Harry." George said, his grin back.  
  
"Play with fire and get burned as they say." Fred completed the thought. Belatrix looked more annoyed and enraged than ever before, Fred and George could have that effect on people sometimes.  
  
"I tire of this, it's time for the lot of you to die." As soon as she completed this sentance the curses started flying over Harry's head. He tried to roll over, to point his wand at the Death Eaters and assist his saviors. He heaved, but fell back to the ground, his limbs felt weak and the rest of him felt heavy as lead. It was getting dark, Harry let his eyes slide closed and knew no more.  
  
He was on his back, facing a white celing that intersected almost seamlessly with the identically colored walls. He lay in a white bed and wore a set of clean white hospital robes. It didn't look much like how he remembered St. Mungo's. He tried to move and found it very difficult, his muscles responded slowly and felt very weak. His skin had reknit and his broken ribs had been reset. Still, in the way magic could heal people, he still felt the injuries, felt the weakness and the pain.  
  
Despite the pain of it, he slid out of bed, wondering how long he had been out if no one was waiting for him. He wondered whether it was late at night and the Weasleys had to go home. He found the blinds and pulled them open to see a bright, sunny day. It must have not been two hours past noon, so unless he was out of it for an entire 28 hours it was only hours later on the same day. He stopped for a moment, it wasn't too unbelievable to him to be unconcious for so long. Perhaps it was a day or more later, he would have to ask when a doctor would come in to see him.  
  
As if summoned by his thoughts, an older man wearing white robes and small framed glasses stepped through the doorway, a suprised look on his face as he noticed Harry.  
  
"You shouldn't be awake yet, much less walking about, you should get back in bed."  
  
"I'm tougher than I look, what happened after I fainted?" Harry responded shortly, remaining on his feet. The healer hesitated, obviously debating whether to tell Harry or not.   
  
"Alright, I'll tell you, but you'll want to sit down for it." the healer sighed in defeat when Harry stubbornly remained standing.  
  
"Very well, after you fainted the Death Eaters immediately gained the upper hand, stunning Mr. Jordan and... otherwise incapacitating Ms. Johnson. The Weasley twins, well, four Death Eaters are more than can be expected for any wizard to take on. Even so, they fought bravely, and even forced the Death Eaters to withdraw, but not before they managed to use the killing curse on George Weasley." The healer explained as gently as he could. Harry felt dizzy. He realized the doctor was right, that he should have taken a seat, because he found it extraordinarily difficult to remain on his feet after he was finished with the retelling.  
  
"So, George is gone?" Harry asked weakly, the healer nodded. Harry felt like he was going to be sick. He killed a person with his own hand, his blind scraping to conserve his own life had robbed an innocent bystander of their life, and the day had culminated in a situation that caused someone to give their life to protect his own. Three people had died this day because he didn't like living with his Aunt and Uncle. Harry thought he was a horrible person before for causing his Godfather's death by his pride, now he thought he'd be better off dead. He sank to the floor and cried.  
  
AN: You know, this was supposed to be light-hearted and fun, not really starting until he got to the Burrow but something went wrong and suddenly Harry killed some guy and brought about George's death. Seems like it's gonna continue (albeit slowly) and get darker and darker. I've already got plans to ruin the lives of pretty much every major character in the series... I seriously don't think the survivors will number in the teens. I have a feeling that many people will like the way I plan on ending this. If you chose to review please tell me what you thought of the magic-fight scenes, I'm trying to make them exciting and I want to write more in the future. For those of you who searched Harry and Ginny romance I ask you bide your time, as that's about to become the focus. It's gonna be hard since I'm having neither of them start out loving the other, I never like stories where they start out in love and all they have to do is admit it to each other. I warn any of you who read and liked this, I take forever to update, so you might want to wait until it's finished, or resign yourself to the slow and sporatic writing. I must apologise for the formatting, this chapter is too long for Notepad, and I don't have any of that fancy shmancy MS Word, and Wordpad has never agreed with Fanfiction.net, so I had to break chapter one into two sections, I have a feeling that's the way it's gonna be in other chapters as well. 


	3. Fault

Butcher's Bill chapter 2, Fault (these chapters are too long for notepad, which is my only Word Proccessor)  
  
Suddenly it made sense why there was no one worried about him and waiting patiently for him to wake. They were all mourning the death of one of the inseperable twins, and blaming it on him. He cried because he knew he had killed a member of the family he had grown so close to, that he was sure he would consider himself a part of when he entered the adult world. Now that the blood of their family was on his hands he knew he could never call himself one of them. Mrs. Weasley would never again say that he was practically one of her sons. The healer tried to help him back to bed, but he pushed him away, sitting on a cold floor being better for the feelings he was feeling than any warm, soft bed.  
  
It was a long time before Harry, exhausted from everything he had been through crawled back into bed and fell asleep, only to be assailed by nightmares. His hand slew Rodolphus, the blank, vaguely suprised look on the man's face as he died suddenly, Fred standing over his twin's corpse looking at Harry with eyes shouting blame and sorrow, Sirius falling backwards through that accursed veil. Each image twisted in his mind, changing from one to the other with sickening irregularity, a constant torment of blame that Harry couldn't even wake up from to escape. When morning finally came and Harry's eyes cracked open it seemed none too soon for Harry.   
  
Harry was already sick of this white room he was waking up in for the second time. He slid out of bed and stalked to the door, he was checking himself out of this place. He wasn't sure where he'd go, it was still more than a week before Hogwarts was scheduled to start. He couldn't go back to the Weasley's house after what he had done. He couldn't face all those well deserved accusing looks. He walked to the door, pushing it open and stepped through. The hallway stretched to the left, Harry could see a desk behind which the night-shift nurse was struggling to stay awake. He realized he was without his wand and his own clothing. He walked purposefully up to the nurse who, upon seeing him, jumped to her feet as if she'd seen a ghost.  
  
"Excuse me, I'm checking myself out, I need my wand." Harry asked politely. The nurse opened her mouth and closed it again, reconsidering what she had to say.  
  
"You should still be asleep, I should call a healer for you."  
  
"No, I just need my wand, please give it back to me now." Harry's patience was wearing thin, why did everyone expect him to sleep all the time?  
  
"Your wand is being kept at the front desk and will be returned to you after a..." The nurse trailed off, Harry already having started away from her desk toward the stairs. He walked down the stairs slowly, his mind on what he would do next. There wasn't a safe place left in the wizarding world and he wouldn't put it past Voldemort to kill as many muggles as necissary, as possible, to get to Harry if he were to live in the muggle world for a time. If he could convince the Order of the Phoenix of his perdicament he could stay at #12 Grimmauld place for the week. He was fairly sure he could find his way there on his own, Harry had a good directional sense. He just needed to get his wand. He arrived at the base level of the hospital. The reception desk was just ahead. Stepping up to get in the long line he ran into someone. Both he and the person he ran into stumbled slightly, Harry was halfway through a suprised apology when he realized who he had run into. Fred Weasley smiled slightly as Harry's voice fell away.  
  
"Nice to see you again Harry, this time with fewer Death Eaters I see." Fred grinned. Harry wasn't sure what to say, Fred was supposed to hate him for what happened to his twin brother. It was his fault after all.  
  
"I'm sorry." Harry managed to croak out.  
  
"You're sorry? Why whatever for Harry?" Fred said, his smile turned sad, showing he really did know what Harry was sorry about.  
  
"It was my fault, I deserve nothing but your loathing for what happened." Harry said, unable to meet Fred's eyes. Fred's look changed, to one of anger. Harry found himself stumbling to the side, his ears ringing from a sharp blow to the left side of his face. Fred had slapped him, hard.  
  
"I just slapped you, I willfully pulled my hand back and hit you with it." Fred said in an explanitory voice, "It is my fault that your face hurts." Fred lowered his hand, his smile coming back. "You had no such choices to make the day that George died."  
  
Harry was angry that he had been hit, but still felt he owed so much to Fred and even more to George for what they did for him that he held back his fury, "I could have just let them kill me, without running you would have never been involved and George would still be alive today."  
  
"Do you want me to slap you again Potter? My mother wanted me and George to stay out of the Order because she didn't want us to die." Fred explained, "We understood this, and wanted to join the Order anyway. Our reason for wanting such a thing was not so we wouldn't be left out of the loop, it wasn't because we were bored and wanted to do exciting things. We wanted to join because we realized how important the Order was, and we were, and I still am, willing to die to help stop Voldemort and his followers."  
  
"But, what about your mother, and Ron, and the rest, are they fine with it? Do they believe it wasn't my fault?" Harry asked him, the relief at finding he wasn't hated on account of what had happened giving way to the fear that he actually would. Fred was just about to answer when they heard a polite cough. Harry looked around and saw the line had shrunk, and they were next for the receptionist witch. Harry stepped forward, embarrassed that he was wasting the woman's time.  
  
"Yes, I'm checking myself out, I need my wand and clothing back." Harry said, the witch looked at him over the rim of her spectacles.  
  
"Harry Potter is it?" Harry nodded. The witch pulled out a small package.  
  
"Here you go, you'll find your wand in your forward right pocket in your cloak." Harry thanked the woman, and hesitated before asking,  
  
"What was the name of the older man killed yesterday in Diagon Alley?" The witch frowned up at him, before silently shifting some papers around.  
  
"It was one Jericho Diggory." Harry's face darkened, another Diggory's blood was on his hands. Harry smiled and thanked the receptionist, then excused himself so he could change back into his own clothing. He found his clothing to be freshly washed and mended, no sign showing of the gaping holes and bloodstains that should have been prevalent after his thrashing the day before. Laying his hospital robe in the bathroom he returned to Fred's side and they left the Hospital together. Harry's stomache grumbled discontentedly.  
  
"Join me for a late breakfast?" Fred asked Harry seriously.  
  
"Absolutely." Harry agreed.  
  
***  
  
It was a dingy muggle coffeehouse they entered that morning, the only things to eat were poorly made strudels and smelly bran muffins. Fred paid for it all and they adjourned to a corner. Something suddenly occured to Harry.  
  
"Fred, why were you at the hospital this morning?" He asked, Fred coughed, nearly choking on his tea.  
  
"Well, I was there visiting Angelina." Fred said simply, after he had recovered. "She took a powerful curse, and the healers are still trying to figure out the exact countercurse." he sighed, "She's in a lot of pain, so I figure I should comfort her as best I can." Fred ended the explaination by taking a large bite of his strudel and changing the subject.  
  
"So, you figure my family's going to do an about face and begin hating you because of the actions of a group of Death Eaters?" Fred asked conversationally. Harry cringed, "Well, yes. Your mother's greatest fear is coming to pass and I think she might relate it to me because I was there." Harry disappended the phrase "it was my fault" knowing what Fred thought of that.  
  
"For being all but one of the family you still have a lot to learn about what it means to be a Weasley. Step one is big families, step two is sticking by your family and friends, especially when times are tough." Fred smirked, "And times are tough right now." Fred hesitated, "And besides, if they're unwilling to take you in you're welcome to stay at my place."  
  
"So you're not sure after all." Harry blurted out, Fred sighed heavily.  
  
"I can't claim to know for certain what my parents will decide, a death in the family does strange things to people." he sighed again.  
  
"we should really get going, I want to get you to the Burrow by noon and it's a busy time for the Knight Bus." He finished off his tea and strudel and made his way out of the coffeehouse, Harry following close behind.  
  
***  
  
Fred had been right about it being a busy time on the Knight Bus. Though Harry had ridden on it several times now and was a bit more used to the sudden jolts of it's strange journey he still found himself almost falling off his chair multiple times. It was more than an hours ride before he found the Knight Bus on a country road slowing to a stop in front of Harry's second favorite place in the world, The Burrow. Today's reactions would probably determine whether he could ever return to it again. He stepped off the bus, Fred in tow. Harry glanced at Fred, who gave him an encouraging smile. Harry walked up the winding path through the messy garden to knock on the front door to the three storied farm-style house. The door was answered by a person who managed to completely deflate his hopes.  
  
"Ginny." Harry said in friendly greeting when she opened the door.  
  
"Harry." She said with no small amount of malevolence. "We thought you'd come by, to pick up your things." the second part of that sentance rang with more emphasis than the first part. Fred had been wrong, there was plenty ill will harbored against him in this house. He nodded, visably hurt by the meaning behind her words, but knowing he had expected such a reaction. She opened the door wider for him to enter and stepped away from the door. Harry's trunk wasn't in the living room, while apparently Ron's set of Wizard's Chess was left in the middle of a game. He looked around, but found his trunk nowhere on the first floor, he found no one present. He looked to Fred, who shrugged. He passed the landing on the second floor, doubting they would be keeping his trunk in either Ginny or Percy's rooms, that left Ron's room and the Attic.  
  
In Ron's room, on the floor lay Harry's trunk and next to the windowsil rested Hedwig in her cage. Harry hefted his trunk and started back down the stairway. He set it down again on the second floor landing to catch his breath. That's when he heard the sobbing. The sound was coming through the crack of Ginny's door. Harry hesitated, it really wasn't his business how she expressed her emotion, none of his business that she was crying. Even if it was his fault, he didn't care what Fred said, it was his life that was causing these end of other lives around him. He knew he deserved some of the blame for what had happened, and he knew now he could probably only get it from Ginny. He nudged he door open further and took a peek inside. Ginny was lying on her bed, her back to the door. She was crying softly to herself, curled up slightly on her messy bedspread. Harry hesitated once more before pushing the door open wider. The report of squeeking hinges alerted Ginny to his presence. She sat up quickly, hands flying to her face to wipe away her tears. She looked to Harry in the doorway, her puffy eyes narrowing,   
  
"What do you want?" she asked vindictively. Harry found he couldn't say anything. He simply stood there, looking at the girl lying on the bed, hating him. Ginny began to look annoyed.  
  
"Look, you can pick up your things, but we don't want you here anymore, it's your fault after all, what happened." Ginny almost lost herself to her tears again. Harry suddenly found his voice again.  
  
"Yes, you're right." Harry whispered, barely loud enough to be heard, "It's all my fault..." speaking up he repeated, "It's all my fault, and I'm sorry." Ginny slid out of bed and walked over to stand in front of him, there was no spark of friendship there, nothing was alive in her eyes but the cold hatred directed towards her brother's murderer, who was standing in front of her.  
  
"Just get out." her words dripped with venom. Harry stood still for a moment more before leaving her room and shutting the door quietly behind him. He sighed, and picked up his trunk, now more than ready to continue down the stairs and away from another family he could have had, if only Voldemort and his followers wouldn't have done the things they did Harry wouldn't be the last survivor of his own family and an exile from the one he had nearly grown into. He found Fred waiting for him at the bottom, a dark look on his face.  
  
"I really expected more out of this family, I can't believe they'd let a death split us apart like this." Fred's dark look mitigated itself, "I was serious when I told you that you could stay with me, unless you've got somewhere else you'd rather stay." Harry shook his head,  
  
"This was the only place I would have liked to stay, and that isn't an option for me any longer." Harry said, "Lead on."  
  
The two of them got to the entrance to the garden when Harry remembered what he forgot.  
  
"Hedwig, I'm sorry Fred, I'll be right back." Harry rushed back to the house and up the stairs. He carefully picked up Hedwig's cage and returned to the first floor again. It was then that the whole of the Weasley family returned. The front door burst open and in stormed a frizzy haired, puffy-eyed Mrs. Weasley followed by an entourage of red haired boys. Fred, Ron, Percy, and Mr. Weasley all followed the foremost Weasley mother.  
  
"What is this nonsense talk of us kicking you out?" Mrs. Weasley said, a little breathlessly, "There's no way we would kick you out right as we lost George." Harry cringed  
  
"But I'm the reason you lost him... you must find me at fault for what happened." Harry said quietly, not sure if he should get his hopes up.  
  
"That's garbage Harry, the death eaters killed him, not you." Ron burst forth. Harry shook his head.  
  
"But if it hadn't been for my presence the Death Eaters would have never met George that day." Harry explained.  
  
"Running for your life is expected, no one would hold self preservation against you, and it's not like you knew George would die." Fred commented, his voice quiet, his eyes looking to the stairway. Ron moved to Harry and clapped a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"You're my best mate Harry, like another brother, I'd hate to lose two in the same week." Harry almost managed a smile at this, but then his face fell once again.  
  
"There's just one thing..." Harry began, sighing, "Not all are as forgiving as you are. Ginny does not want me here." everybody looked to the stairwell, Harry followed their gaze and found it rested on Ginny, standing on the bottom-most stair.  
  
"He's no brother of mine, he took George away from us." Ginny spoke.  
  
"Shut up Gin! it's not his fault." Ron nearly shouted at the offending girl.  
  
"I don't think it's a question of fault, Death rides on his left shoulder, causing all around him to die." Ginny fairly spat. Unbidden, Harry's fists began to clench.   
  
"What do you mean by that?" He inquired in a quiet voice.  
  
"I mean you cause the deaths of those you love and who love you. It's a pity Death doesn't take you instead." Harry looked at Ginny no longer wishing for her hate, but seeing it and returning it full force.  
  
"I'd like to see you deal with being the target of Death Eaters who want to torture you to death. It's not the clear picture you seem to paint." Harry growled, his temper roused past his grief.  
  
"Oh, don't act like I don't know what it's like to face Death eaters, it's you that we followed into the department of mysteries where we all almost died." Ginny retorted, her voice now rising.  
  
"Obviously you don't remember well, it's not the clear cut choice of your life or your friend's. You do what you can, but you're never in control." Harry's voice rose to match the young Weasley. Mrs. Weasley stepped between them, raising her arms and saying, "Calm down, both of you, there's no reason to argue." Ginny paused.  
  
"I suppose you're right, nothing I say can pierce his shell of arrogance." something about that sentance made Harry very afraid, afraid that it was true.  
  
"And he has all of you under his spell so fast that you can't see that he'll doom us all." Ginny said, looking at her assembled family. With that she stormed back up the stairs and slammed the door to her room. Funny, thought Harry, that he was both the only hope for the entire Wizarding world and likely the Muggle world as well, yet he was also it's doom. It was a rather dry joke.  
  
The room was quiet after Ginny left. All eyes were on Harry. Harry stared dully ahead, wondering what it was he had done in a past life to deserve the horribly scarred life he was leading. Then again, maybe it was this life that he was building up a debt to be paid back in his next life. It was Ron who finally broke the silence.  
  
"You know none of us believe her, right mate?" he asked, hopeful that he wouldn't get mad at them as well because of what Ginny had said.  
  
"She's right though." Harry said quietly.  
  
"Are you mad? You don't mean for those people to die... do you?" Ron said uncertainly.  
  
"Of course I don't, but a suprising number of people die because of me." Harry spoke in a flat voice. "Wherever I go, people start dying."  
  
No one had anything to say to this. Harry sighed heavily, "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble, but I would rather stay here than get thrown out, but if you think your family needs to be strong together and I'd get in Ginny's way then I'd be happy to go." Harry wasn't even finished when five redhaired heads were already shaking to indicate a negative.  
  
"You're one of us Harry, Ginny will come around soon." Mrs. Weasley assured.  
  
"I'd trust you with my life, Harry, you've been my best mate from day one. That isn't gonna change now." Ron said seriously.  
  
Harry opened his mouth, but choked on his words. "Thank you" is what he meant to say, but when he couldn't say it, it was too little to express what he felt. About George, about Ginny, about their enduring friendship throughout the years. Those words were too little so instead he pulled Ron into a tight embrace. Physically was the only way of expressing what he couldn't say verbally. Soon Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred and Percy were joining in as well. Tears sprang from nowhere and they seemed to appear in everybody's eyes at the same time. They were not a mass of people hugging and crying, they were a single unit, a family, mourning one who had passed beyond the veil. Ginny sat on the floor in her darkened room, in the small space between the bed and the wall.  
  
***  
  
The rest of the day passed quickly and quietly for the residents of the Burrow. With the exception of the youngest of them they all sat comfortably around the family room telling stories about the deceased. It was a strange mixture of humor and sorrow. Percy seemed to be trying to make up for lost time with his family members, knowing that any of them could be dead before long and not wanting anybody else to die without being able to clear the air between them. It struck Harry how different this mourning was from his own mourning over Sirius. The focus seemed to be on healing and fond rememberance, rather than a self-feeding spiral of blame and recriminations. Reflecting on this summer he realized that his situation and additude had probably caused some deep emotional scarring. After dinner he begged off sitting with them more by telling them that he was very tired and wanted some rest. He hoped none of them saw the bag of dinner rolls and lamb leg he had nicked. Acending to the second floor landing he didn't hesitate before knocking lightly on Ginny's tightly shut door.  
  
"Go away." was the only response he got.  
  
"It's Harry..." Harry began, knowing he would be interrupted, which he was.  
  
"I don't want to talk to you. Go away." He heard from the other side of the door. It was nothing more than he expected, which was why he had taken the food.  
  
"I have food, for you." Harry said gently, inoffensively. There was a slight pause before he heard a half-hearted  
  
"I'm not hungry. Go away." Ignoring her a third time he instead responded to the first half of the sentance.  
  
"Even so, you need to eat, when was the last time you ate?" Harry heard a noncommittal response.  
  
"If I had to guess," Harry continued, "You haven't eaten since you heard about George." There was only silence in response.  
  
"And when you heard, at first you didn't want to believe it, that it was one of Fred's tricks, that he'd tell you about it and laugh at your gullibility. But that wasn't happening, he was telling the whole family, and when nobody laughed and George didn't jump out to suprise everyone you realized the worst was true." No sound came from Ginny's room, so Harry continued.  
  
"You got angry then, at the Death Eaters who did it, maybe at your parents for letting them join the order, most likely at me, for being the catalyst to their meeting. I think you got so angry you broke something, but that only made you more angry. Nothing could satisfy your anger because nothing you could break could bring back your brother. Once your anger wore itself out you felt pain, a seemingly unending ocean of pain so wide you don't see the end even in the distance, so deep you feel as if it will sweep you away down and down forever. Now you are trying to push emotions away from you because you feel like they are what caused you the pain. If you never loved George you never would have had to feel so horribly." Harry was near to tears himself, but choked them back in order to finish. "But a lack of emotion hurts as much as emotion ever could... I know all of this because I just went through this, I know how you feel because I still feel the same way myself."  
  
The door cracked open slightly, Ginny's face appeared, tearstreaked, and lacking the coldness he saw there before. She opened it more fully and held out her hand mutely. Harry compliantly gave her the bag of food. She stepped away from the door, leaving it open. Harry took a deep breath and a chance, stepping in behind her.  
  
"I guess you deserve to talk as long as it takes me to eat." Ginny said, still cautious of Harry. She took a large bite of a roll, as if to speed him along to his point.  
  
"I want you to rejoin the family tomorrow." Ginny looked at him sharply, "Just because the rest of this family is pretending like you're a Weasley doesn't mean you are, don't think of yourself as one of us." Harry was silent for a moment, then repeated himself.  
  
"I want you to rejoin your family tomorrow." This time Ginny sighed, took another bite and chewed slowly before responding.  
  
"I don't see why you would want me with you, I don't want to be anywhere near you." Ginny picked up the piece of lamb and tore off a chunk.  
  
"If your presence requires my absence, so be it." Harry said immediately. Ginny looked up at him, suprised. She gave him a measuring look before cautiously responding.  
  
"Why do you want me to rejoin my family so badly?" Ginny asked neutrally, a touch of suspicion in her voice.  
  
"Because I don't want you to go through this pain alone, with your brothers you can move towards healing."  
  
"And if I requested you vacate yourself you would do so?" Ginny asked, Harry simply nodded.  
  
"So you don't need healing yourself then? So you never cared about George at all." Ginny said maliciously, catching him in a trap. Harry sighed, looking down at his hands, spread palms up.  
  
"It's not that, it's that..." Harry hesitated, "Well, I guess some people deserve to heal their wounds, but others can't afford that luxury."  
  
Ginny looked at him with different eyes, "You mean that you're not even trying to recover from Sirius?" Harry stood up suddenly.  
  
"Good night Ginny." and he left before Ginny could call him back.  
  
Harry took a moment to reorient himself outside her door before slowly climbing the rest of the steps up to Ron's bedroom where he'd be sleeping. He really was tired, perhaps it was that his wounds had not yet fully healed, maybe it was just all the emotion of the day had worn him out. As he settled down onto a matress set up for him on Ron's floor he looked to his hands again. To him they were stained by the blood of those who had died because of him. He etched into his mind a list of those who had died because of his presance.  
  
James Potter  
  
Lily Potter  
  
Cedric Diggory  
  
Sirius Black  
  
Rodolphus Lestrange  
  
Jericho Diggory  
  
George Weasley  
  
Harry hoped that the list would not grow longer, but he knew there was at least one name he would need to add. He hoped Voldemort's name would be the last he would ever add to this list.   
  
AN: sorry about formatting and spelling. Without a beta reader or a normal word processer I have to do my best. 


	4. Funeral

The Butcher's Bill chapter 3: Funeral  
  
Because Harry had gone to sleep the earliest he was also the first awake. He rolled off his mattress and into the cold pre-dawn morning air. He left the Burrow behind, stepping out into the darkness and the cold outside. Harry shivered slightly, having gone from the warmth of bed to the coldest part of the night, just before dawn, in the space of a few minutes. He wandered aimlessly, knowing he could get back to the house if he had to. He was out to give Ginny as much breadth as she needed to begin her healing process. He could deal with Ginny hating him, that was unavoidable, but he couldn't ever deal with Ginny having to go through what he had gone through, risk becoming what he was becoming.  
  
Harry saw a low stone bench and took a seat, figuring he was in the Weasley garden he took the seat. He sat there, virtually motionless until the sky began to turn a slight shade of grey, heralding the coming sunrise. Suddenly Harry heard approaching footsteps, but in the gloom couldn't make out their identity. He wanted to stay out of the Weasley's hair as long as he could manage, and that meant staying undetected, so Harry rolled backwards off the bench and into the weed-covered bushes off the walkway. Up walked Ginny, carrying a lantern. She walked past the bench without stopping or looking down at him, so he was fairly confident he was well enough hidden. After she had passed out of sight Harry picked himself up and dusted himself off. She was past, but she might come back from wherever she was going by the same path. He needed to move. He looked down the path, not able to determine if he had been here before. He was suddenly very curious where it was the youngest Weasley was going so early in the morning. He found himself following her silently, just able to make out the path by the predawn light. The glow of the lantern ahead brought him up short.  
  
Ginny was standing before a short, but wide stone. Harry could barely make out the stone in the low light. Ginny set the lantern down, but not on the convinient table of the stone, but on the ground. Ginny then knelt down and began to cry. Harry could hear her racking sobs from where he was standing. The situation was just too bizarre, why would Ginny leave the house early in the morning to cry in front of a big rock? Harry crept forward, hoping to find out the secret of the stone when he realized that there were many more of those stones, in slightly varying size and shape, lying in neat rows extending outward from where he stood. Ginny's voice came to him, free of tears by the sound.  
  
"Why do you follow me out here? To this place of Weasley family?" She stood and faced him,  
  
"Do you really believe you are a member of this family?"  
  
It suddenly dawned upon Harry where they were... A graveyard. The sun was beginning to break the horizon and he could see his surroundings much better. The Graveyard was small, but only contained those of the Weasley blood line. Harry stepped up to Ginny and replied,  
  
"I understand that I'm not a Weasley, which is why I've fled the house today." Harry paused, Ginny looked down at the gravestone.  
  
"As much as I want to believe what they tell me I can't help knowing that it's my fault they are dead." Harry looked back to the outline of the Burrow just visible behind him.  
  
"Them?" Ginny asked quizzically Harry turned back to her, a sad look on his face.  
  
"I made a list in my head last night, of people who have been killed by or because of me. I will never forget a single name on this list as long as I live." Ginny was speachless.  
  
"I hope this list doesn't ever grow even a single name longer, but there is one more that needs to be added." Harry said quietly, almost to himself, almost forgetting that Ginny was there.  
  
"Belatrix?" Ginny asked, thinking of her killing Harry's Godfather. Harry gently shook his head.  
  
"No, she has more reason to kill me than me her."   
  
"Why?" Ginny was at a loss for words, she didn't understand why Harry was acting like this.  
  
"I killed her husband." Harry said, his voice catching. Ginny looked at him quizzically.  
  
"But... he was trying to kill you, why shouldn't you have killed him?"  
  
"Who am I to say that my life is more valuable than someone else's?" Harry sighed. "If I let myself justify killing one person, how long down the road will I be before I have to justify more deaths? What will that lead to?" Ginny was silent for a moment.  
  
"You said one more name needed to be added, who are you talking about?" She asked. Harry drew a stuttering breath and said,  
  
"Voldemort"  
  
Ginny flinched at the name, but her eyes grew large.   
  
"You can't be serious Harry, you-know-who will be defeated by Dumbledore, it's not up to us to stop him."  
  
"There was a time," Harry said, "when I believed that too."  
  
"What do you mean by that?" Ginny asked, a look of worry crossing her features. Harry ignored her question, looking down at the gravestone she had been crying at. It was a double gravestone, with two names on it, George and Fred Weasley.   
  
"Why is Fred's name on this as well?" Harry asked.  
  
"Fred insisted, saying that they had been inseperable in life, so they'd be together in death too."  
  
"Isn't that a bit morbid? Having a grave set up for you before you even die."  
  
"Actually no, my gravestone is over there." Ginny said, pointing, "I got it the summer before last. It's a Weasley tradition to set your own grave."  
  
"You don't find that the least bit mad?" Harry asked  
  
"It's a very liberating feeling to know what will happen after you die. When I die my body will be put to rest beneath this stone where it will stay for all time. Because I know this I can live life without fearing death." Harry had nothing to say to this. It made some sort of sense. He had no idea what would happen when he died and it was oddly disconcerting, more so than he would have expected. They stood together in silence for a time, neither looking at the other until Ginny spoke again.  
  
"You don't have to... I mean... that is to say... I don't need your absence to rejoin the family." She looked down to the ground. Harry simply looked to her, seeing her embarassment.  
  
"Why" he simply asked, knowing the answer, but knowing that she wanted to say it.  
  
"Well, it's hard to explain, but, I think it was selfish of me to seek your exile from the family." She hesitated, "I was blaming you when it wasn't really your fault. And you've shown you've suffered enough by it that I shouldn't be putting salt in your wounds." she grinned nervously at him and offered her hand, "So, no hard feelings then?" Harry looked at her hand, and took it, grinning,  
  
"Never."  
  
***  
  
They walked back to the house together, Harry holding the lantern. It was a misty morning, visibility was low and they were upon the house only a short time after they saw it. Ginny strode through the front door while Harry took a moment to put out the lantern and hang it on a peg. Thinking about the graveyard he took a glance back into the gray clouds of mist, and saw a shadow move. A moment later there was nothing, in the roiling mist there were plenty of shadows to mistake for something else, but that shadow had caught Harry's eye, and he wanted to find out why. Preparing for the worst he pulled out his wand and cautiously stepped back into the fog. He slowed to a crawling walk, trying to move without making noise, straining to hear the telltale sounds that would give away the location of the shadow from earlier. Hearing nothing he bore right, circling the perimeter of the house, hoping to spot any evidence of an intruder if indeed there was one. His search proved useless and he turned back to the house. A step toward the house revealed more than his searching had. An arm flew around his neck, choking him. Harry felt himself dragged off balance, the offending arm squeezing all air from him. He tried to struggle, but he was already feeling light headed and weak. He was almost unconcious when he hit the ground suddenly. There was shouting, but Harry couldn't hear it. He barely heard the sound of popping above him, All he could focus on was the texture of the grass on his face, it was the only sense not obscured by a hazy uncertainty. The world snapped sharply back into focus when he heard a woman scream.  
  
He rose, his vision swimming, momentarily unsure of where he was. A black shape came forth out of the gloomy mist. The deranged mask marked it as a Death Eater. The Death Eater paused, holding still for a moment, then slowly turned to him. Harry turned expecting to see the house, but when he saw an impetrinable wall of fog he was disoriented, the Death Eater raised his wand. There was another female scream, this one coherent,   
  
"Antis hydris."  
  
The Death Eater gasped in a dry scrape, unable to complete his own incantation, his mouth and throat were completely dehydrated, making intelligible speech impossible. A firm hand grasped Harry's collar and dragged him forcefully away. He was about to resist when he realized the figure had the red hair of a Weasley. The house loomed large before them, the fog had grown thicker and it was now impossible to see higher than the second story of the Weasley house. The world was shrouded in a blanket of white shadow. Harry was led inside the house, where he saw Ron and Fred, still in their pajamas but looking very alert and a little frightened. Harry looked around and saw that it was Mrs. Weasley who had saved him. Mrs. Weasley was looking around, breathing hard.  
  
"Oh, it's so hard, leaving all this behind to be destroyed, oh where is that husband of mine?"  
  
As if invoking him, Arthur Weasley and Percy popped in just at that moment.  
  
"Hurry, we managed to delay them for a few moments, but we need to get out of here." Arthur turned to the fireplace.  
  
"Incendio" A fire was now burning brightly. Arthur turned back to them again.  
  
"Where's Ginny." Harry asked. Everyone looked crestfallen.  
  
"Ginny... was taken...and I think she was killed." Ron said hesitantly. "She was calling out your name, then she turned to the right, there was a flash of light... green light. Ginny screamed and fell down. I think it was Avada Kedavra." Molly herded them over to the fireplace, where she tossed in the rest of the Floo powder.  
  
"We're going to the Ministry of Magic, we'll gather there and then figure out what to do about Ginny." She explained. Harry smiled almost to himself.  
  
"Your body will be put to rest beneath that stone where it will stay for all time." he whispered to himself, then shook his head. It was his turn to go through the firey portal to the Ministry.   
  
"But not today." He turned away, letting the emerald flames turn back to orange, It was crazy, what he was doing, absolutely mad. There was no other word for it, but he couldn't back down now. It was obvious they were here because of him. Not another witch or wizard would die because of Harry Potter unless it was by Harry's own hand. He swore that to himself, on pain of death. He pulled out his wand as he walked out the screen door onto the porch, just as a Death Eater was climbing up the steps.  
  
"Expelliarmus"  
  
The Death Eater was blown backwards off the porch, pitching backwards to hit his head on a loose stone as his wand sailed into the air. Harry didn't even bother catching it, running to the left and diving off the porch to avoid a barrage of curses. Rolling to his knees he drew a bead on one of his assailants.  
  
"Conjunctivitis, Furnunculus, Densaugeo." He didn't pay attention to which ones hit, he stood and began running deeper into the mist. He couldn't give away his position by calling out to Ginny, he also couldn't take his time to search for her, and he also couldn't hope to defeat the entire force of Death Eaters, however many were left.  
  
"Flaesk Ruptus" he heard to his right. A beam of light flew wide, narrowly missing Harry. It hit an old fencepost, shattering it almost to the ground. Harry changed directions to run away from the source of that spell. The mist was getting thicker, shrowding everything in ever deepening gray. He almost couldn't make out his feet under him, visibility was so low. A dark shape appeared suddenly before him, skidding to a halt he raised his wand, performing an expert "Petrificus Totalus"  
  
To Harry's suprise the figure didn't lock up and fall over, but reached out and grasped him by the neck in a vise-like grip. The abnormally long, cold fingers seemed familiar to Harry and when his scar stabbed him with pain he knew it could be none other than Voldemort himself. Harry was picked up off the ground, dangling by his neck. He gasped for air, but he felt the darkness pressing on him already. He heard Voldemort speak in the dry scrape he had for a voice.  
  
"I continue to wonder, how it is that such a pathetic, underaged wizard with knowledge of only the most rudimentary curses and hexes can continue to survive encounters with adult wizards who make it their hobby to find new and better ways to kill."  
  
"Where's... Ginny?" Harry coughed out. Voldemort laughed his harsh laugh.  
  
"So like the Potters, a meaningless sentiment before you die." Voldemort grinned, "I suppose you're in love with her then, you Potters must have a thing for redheads."  
  
Harry ignored Voldemort's meaningless taunting, he wasn't in love with Ginny, he was risking his life to prove a point, not to save Ginny's life. If it were any other human being in her position he would've come just as readily. No, Harry was focusing on getting away from Voldemort. Inspiration struck in the middle of Voldemort's next sentance, saying something about waterfoul and gunpowder. Harry raised his wand, closed his eyes and shouted, "LUMOS" at the top of his failing voice, the sudden, bright light compounded by the heavy mist glared in Voldemort's suprised eyes, and he dropped Harry.  
  
Harry hit the ground running, darting off in a random direction. He was now completely disoriented, had no idea how to escape, much less find Ginny, and Voldemort himself was after him. This day just kept getting better and better. A white-hot beam of light shot past Harry, grazing his shoulder and setting his cloak aflame. He ripped it off and threw it to the ground and kept running. He noticed that the mist had cleared significantly in the path of the flame. Thinking quickly he raised his wand.  
  
"Incendio, Incendio" pointing his wand at two other points off either side of the path cleared by the first flame bolt. He chose the left path and took off running again. He continued running in the relative clarity of the flame-cleared path for several long moments before the mist pressed down again. Harry didn't know in what direction Ginny might be, he didn't know where the house was, he wasn't even sure where Voldemort was in relation to his position. He fell to his knees, hopeless that he could do anything to help anyone. It was then he saw the hint of red somewhere in the roiling fog at the edge of his sight. He hurried over, finding Ginny, facedown in the dirt. He rolled her over and found she was barely breathing. He was about to dispair, he may have found Ginny, but without a method of escape it was useless.  
  
Out of nowhere a strong wind began to blow, disturbing the fog. Finally it was beginning to clear.   
  
"Alright, Potter, this ends now." A vicious voice called. Harry lifted his wand toward the source. Standing there, among the final remnants of the earlier all-pervasive mist was Lucious Malfoy, without his mask and his cloak's hood down.   
  
"Where's Voldemort? And the others?" Harry asked  
  
"I make killing my business, an underaged wizard will present no threat to me." Malfoy said confidently.  
  
"Is that what you thought that night in the Ministry of Magic? Did Rodolphus Lestrange think that as well?" Harry asked, threat evident in his voice. He had no real hope he could frighten the Death Eater away, he just hoped to psyche him out a little.  
  
"Those were occasions where we were taken by suprise and had to give chase through unfamilliar terrain, where you could easily ambush or evade attempts to capture you. A situation where luck played a much larger part than skill, and no one denies you have incredible luck." Malfoy drew his hand through his hair. "Now, in a toe to toe battle with nothing around to hide behind and no mist to conceal you, luck is a factor only in theory and I shall best you, what's the phrase? Fair and square."  
  
"A duel then?" Harry smirked. Malfoy nodded. Harry lowered his wand and nodded.  
  
"If you win, I'll tell you the counter-curse to the hex I put on the girl." Malfoy stated  
  
"If you win, I won't be in any shape to tell you anything." Harry responded. Malfoy laughed an honest laugh.  
  
"It's death's door which exposes the strangest things in people, I suppose in you it's humor." Malfoy composed himself.  
  
"Enough, we duel." Malfoy bowed, Harry returned the bow. They both drew into defensive stances and Harry suddenly realized he hadn't had an official duel since he was in the dueling club in his second year, where he hadn't learned much. During the D.A. Meetings he was most often the supervisor, not engaging in much practice himself. As a result Harry felt a pang of uncertainty, but when Malfoy's wand shot forward to attack his mind cleared and he found himself reacting on instinct. Sidestepping the first of Malfoy's hurled hexes he lowered his own wand, shouting.  
  
"Flipendo."  
  
The beam flew true, but Malfoy brought his wand up and parried it as if it were a sword thrust, then brought it around to arc into the curse he saw be used to fell Hermione in the department of mysteries.  
  
"Porpyra" was the incantation he used, and instead of a shower of purple sparks that had assailed Hermione, Harry found himself facing the wall of a purple inferno. Hardly having time to react he threw his arms up over his face, expecting to feel the flames lick over his body, devouring it in an instant. Instead he was knocked off his feet, where he lay screaming in agony for several seconds before the fire went past him, roaring on into the hillside and exploding with bizarre amethyst light.   
  
"Stand. You may be a Mudblood, but I'll allow you to die as a Wizard."  
  
Harry shakily got to his feet, the shockwave of such a powerful spell had knocked him down, and had given him serious burns that felt as if they were festering and growing, like embers had dug into his flesh and were burrowing still deeper. Malfoy was grinning.  
  
"Now you see why I knew I would win. Mastery of the Dark Arts conveys enough power to overwhelm such puny ants as you."  
  
Harry raised his wand, trying to think of a way to defeat the obviously superior duelist with much more destructive magic under his belt. He awaited the next assault, ignoring the older man's gloating. Malfoy grew annoyed that his prey wasn't even listening so raised his wand again.  
  
"Nuzune"  
  
A grayish black bolt shot forth from Malfoy's wand, travelling slightly slower than it would normally. Harry lowered his wand to the ground in front of him.  
  
"Bak" and the earth in front of Harry exploded upward in a shower of stone and dirt, catching the dark curse within it's mass. As it fell back to earth Harry was prepared for his own assault on Malfoy. Releasing a Bat-Bogey hex was his first move, just as much a distraction as the defense he had administered was. He then ducked to one knee and fired a Jelly legs curse at the Death Eater's midsection. He wasn't fooled, and was able to deflect the more dangerous Jelly legs curse, but he was cut badly by the Bat-Bogies before they were dispelled. The man was able to grin after it was done.  
  
"Not bad, I must appologise if I understated your abilities, you are a worthy opponent." Malfoy said. Harry didn't know how to respond except to stand back up to his full height again. They circled one another, probing the other's defenses with small flicks of their wands. Malfoy suddenly grinned, pointing his wand at Harry's heart and began to chant the Killing Curse. Harry, upon understanding what spell was to be cast dove into his own series of curses. He hit Malfoy dead-center with an Impedimenta curse, slowing the chant to a slow drawl. He followed up with a swift Jelly-legs curse and a petrificus spell that hit his wand arm, causing it to seise up and send his wand flying, and the green jet of death off into the air. Malfoy sank to his knees at the impact of the Jelly-legs curse. Looking up at the burnt Harry he knew that he had been defeated.  
  
"As promised, I'll tell you the counter curse for your friend, but I will beg one last favor of you." Malfoy said, his eyes still proud, but no longer defiant. Harry sneered.  
  
"You want a favor, after trying to kill me you want me to grant you a favor?"  
  
"The ministry is probably on it's way, I want you to kill me before they arrive."  
  
"Why should I do that? You probably know recent information about Voldemort's plans, if I kill you these secrets will die with you."  
  
"Voldemort no longer has plans, he's at full power and is now simply spreading as much terror as possible, killing wizards and muggles alike. It's a war, not a game of chess."  
  
"That sounds like a load."  
  
"Not only that, but when Voldemort finds out I failed he'll simply kill me through the Dark Mark. I'd rather die on the battlefield than through a remote death like that."  
  
"How do I know you're telling the truth?"  
  
"I give you my word as the warrior who could've finished you off while you were on the ground, but allowed you to stand."  
  
Harry considered, then asked,  
  
"What's the counter-curse for Ginny? If it works I might grant your request."  
  
"It's Olispira Cantoni" Harry pointed his wand to Ginny's inert form and repeated the words uttered by the Death Eater. To Harry's relief Ginny slowly stirred, and sat up. She looked at Harry confusedly.  
  
"Stupify"  
  
The red stunning beam hit Ginny and she fell back into unconsciousness. Harry sighed.  
  
"I couldn't let her see what I'm about to do." He turned his wand back to Malfoy who smiled in relief that he was about to die. Harry realized he knew only one spell that could really end a life. He prepared himself, mustering all his remaining magic.  
  
"Can you grant just one more request for me?" Harry nodded.  
  
"Tell my son to avoid the Dark Lord, tell him that his way is not the right way after all, and that I realized this just before I died." Malfoy laughed. "Wasn't it me who was just saying that it's death's door which exposes the strangest things in people?"  
  
"How can Malfoy... I mean, Draco... not know that it's the wrong way to follow Voldemort?" Lucious smiled slightly,  
  
"Harry, my boy, there's not a person alive on this planet who would fight for something he knew was wrong. We Death Eaters honestly believe that it's best for the Muggles to live under those born with magic powers, and those of the old families above all." Malfoy shook his head, "But can you promise me you'll tell him?" Harry nodded. "I promise."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Goodbye, Mr. Malfoy" Harry finally chanted his spell.  
  
"Avada Kedarva" Just after he had finished. all around him the popping of multiple apperations were heard. Around him, just missing having witnessed Harry perform the killing curse on a kneeling man were a half dozen Aurors. Harry sighed in relief. At least one thing had gone right this day. He collapsed, the last spell having taken everything out of him. His chuckled a bit under his breath, he was going to have to add another name to his list...  
  
Lucious Malfoy.  
  
A.N. Whew... this chapter took me only a couple hours to write, just a couple hours that took place several months after it had started. I guess I just needed to get into a groove. Anyway... one thing I mean to make clear is that Harry really does mean what he thinks to himself while being choked by Voldemort. He's not in love with Ginny... yet. He is willing to risk, maybe even sacrifice his life to save her, but because of his promise to himself not to let another die because of him, not because he's in love with her. He's already risked everything to save her life once without being in love with her, so I don't think him doing the same again means he's any more in love. This isn't to say he's not going to fall in love with her later, just that this isn't a story where Harry is the knight in shining armor who sweeps convenient love interests off their feet because he's so wonderful. Harry is developing into a bit of a monster... I personally don't think the choice he made at the end was the right one... but that's just my opinion, he could have been right to do so. Next chapter Harry will learn that he can't do something like what he did without consequences, and we'll see the very beginnings of the Harry/Ginny aspect... hopefully. 


	5. Aftermath

Butcher's Bill: Chapter 4, Aftermath  
  
The sun beat down on what had been a battlefield barely an hour before. The damp chill that Harry had known all that morning was a memory under the cloudless sky. After applying a sweet-smelling, magical salve to his burns and bandaging them up the Aurors began questioning him as to what happened after the Weasley family had evacuated. He had explained to three different Aurors by the time the Weasleys had finally come back. Ginny had been revived from the stunner, but she was still very confused. She was asking whether Harry had betrayed them... which wasn't helping Harry that he had to answer that hard question, why she was saying such a thing. He avoided being caught in lies by telling as close to the truth as he could, without admitting the final spell he had used. He had said that Ginny might be saying such things because it was him who stunned her in order to stop the Death Eaters from using the Imperious Curse on her, he said the spell he used that killed Lucious Malfoy was a series of multiple stunners. He remembered that simultaneous stunners had put Professor McGonagall into the hospital at the end of the previous year, so he suspected repeated stunners would be dangerous as well. By the time the Aurors were finished with him he was bone weary and ravenous for lunch, because any meal could no longer be called breakfast, even though he hadn't eaten since the night before.  
  
A fraction of the purple inferno that had hit Harry had put Hermione up for more than a week, Harry was more badly wounded than he had thought. It looked like it was St. Mungo's for Harry for the second time in as many days. The burn didn't feel like it was getting any worse though and he really didn't want to go back. St. Mungo's never held good memories for Harry. He supposed hospitals never did. He asked if it would be alright to spend the time he needed to recover at the Weasley's. The aurors put their heads together and a moment later it was agreed, Harry could spend the rest of the summer at the Weasley's, provided he was taking care of his wounds. Leaving a supply of salve and bandages they made off with the body of Lucious Malfoy.  
  
The wide variety of expressions on the Weasleys gave him pause. Ron was looking at the ground, a blank look on his face, he kicked a pebble absently. Molly's back was to Harry; she was hugging Ginny without restraint. Ginny was looking at Harry with an odd mix of suspicion and deep gratitude. Fred was looking at the body of Lucious with a bitter look in his eyes. Arthur was anxiously looking at Ginny, obviously overjoyed that his only daughter survived all but certain death. He didn't need to deal with all that just yet, so he quickly mumbled something about the sun being too hot and left before anybody could miss him. He fled their frenzied appreciation, their accusation and their subtle animosity. He found a shadowy spot under a tree far away from the house and plopped to the ground.  
  
He lay there for several hours, staring up at the leafy branches protecting him from the bright sun hanging in the clear blue sky. It was a beautiful day. He thought of things while he lay there. He thought of Voldemort, of Belatrix, of the Weasleys. He was responsible to kill Voldemort, but the duel this morning woke him up to several problems. The first was that he knew nothing of the advanced Dark arts that were the weapons of the Death Eaters. The second was that he had no idea how to even hurt the Dark lord, much less kill him. When his spell hit Voldemort it had no effect. Harry curled up slightly, thinking harder by relaxing his mind. Relaxing his mind sent him into a light doze which deepened into a true nap. His unconcious mind continued to work on the subject as he slept. It was as such that Ginny came upon him much later, a stack of sandwiches on a plate and a thermos full of fruit flavored punch in her arms. She smiled down at the sleeping boy, in his sleep all his problems and worries slid off his face, giving him an innocent look like that of a little boy. She nudged him in the small of his back with the tip of her toe. Harry shot awake scrambling wildly to look at his assailant, a look of suprised fear on his face. When he saw Ginny he froze, looking very silly. Ginny began to laugh lightly at his vulnerability. Harry looked away,  
  
"What's so funny?" That just set her off again. When she finally calmed down she put forth the plate of sandwiches.  
  
"Here, I got you some lunch." Harry looked suprised again, but hurried to thank her.  
  
"Thanks a lot, I was just getting hungry." He took the top sandwich. Ginny made no indication of eating herself.  
  
"You're not going to eat?" Harry asked.  
  
"I made them for you, I don't need any." Ginny responded.  
  
"It's not as fun to eat alone, come on, sit down." Harry insisted. Ginny acquiesced, picking up a one of her own sandwiches, Harry took a bite.  
  
"Wow, these are really good." Harry complimented.  
  
"They're just sandwiches, they're nothing special." Ginny said, evading the compliment.  
  
Ginny took a small bite and had to admit they were unusually good sandwiches.  
  
"Look, Harry, I came out here to thank you for saving me this morning." A dark look crossed Harry's face, knowing where Ginny was going with this.  
  
"It was nothing, don't worry about it." Harry said. Ginny looked down at her sandwich, taking another bite.  
  
"I came here for more than just courtesy sandwiches and a thank you."  
  
Harry finished his sandwich, preparing himself for what was next, an interrogation on why he had come after her, and why he had stunned her while she was rousing.  
  
"I need to tell you that I'm not in love with you."  
  
This suprised Harry, somehow he had never made the connection between the Ginny who had fought Death Eaters and the scared little girl on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets who couldn't keep her wits about her when he was in the same room.  
  
"I got over you a while ago, but I still appreciate what you did to save me, so if I act different in public, distant, know that it's only because I want to stop talk before it starts."  
  
"Talk?" Harry questioned  
  
"When I had my prepubecent crush on you I didn't exactly make any secret about it, and some people have long memories. The type of rumors that would circulate if I'm too friendly with you after the news breaks that you saved my life..." Ginny paused before continuing, "...again, would destroy a new relationship like the one I have with Dean."  
  
Harry was quite taken aback by this,  
  
"You've put quite a bit of thought into this haven't you?"  
  
"I thought it was fairly obvious."  
  
Harry shrugged, "I won't be offended if you ignore me at school. I understand that public opinions can make or break a relationship." Harry said, thinking of the many times in his short stint of "dating" Cho when it seemed like her feelings were dictated by the attitudes of others. "I just don't understand why."  
  
Harry, figured he had gotten off without having to tell her why he had stunned her and grabbed another sandwich. Ginny took another sandwich herself and casually asked, "So, why did you go out on your own after me?"  
  
Harry nearly choked on his sandwich. He had to cut her off before she got going or she'd eventually get to the big one.  
  
"I didn't want another death to happen because of me."  
  
"But why did you leave the house?" Harry asked  
  
"When you didn't come in after me I went back out to look for you, then a Death Eater appeared and cursed me." Ginny said, a funny look in her eyes. Harry nodded, finishing his second sandwich and starting in on his third. They really were quite good.  
  
"Nice weather we've got today." Harry said, trying to change the subject, but it really was. The thick fog had fully dissipated and the few clouds that might have obscured the sun were small and fluffy, perfect conditions for laying back under the shade of a tree on a hill and looking at clouds passing overhead.  
  
"Yeah, I guess it is."  
  
After finishing his third sandwich Harry leaned back and pointed at a cloud.  
  
"What do you think that cloud looks like?"  
  
Ginny looked up and saw an unusually squarish cloud. "I don't know, maybe a book."  
  
"I think it looks like a sandwich."  
  
"What is it with you and sandwiches today?"  
  
"I don't know, I think I'm just hungry." Harry picked up the last sandwich from the plate.  
  
"Hey, what do you think that one looks like?"  
  
They sat and talked for a bit more, Harry frequently bemoaning the fact that there were no more sandwiches and Ginny laughing at him. After a while they decided it was getting towards dinnertime and it was time to head in. As they were brushing the grass off their clothes Ginny turned to Harry and asked,  
  
"Oh, by the way, why did you stun me?"  
  
Harry had thought of no false excuse, but could not possibly tell her the truth of his actions.  
  
"You don't want to know." was all he could say.  
  
Ginny stood with a blank look on her face for several moments. She shook her head.  
  
"No, I'm pretty sure I do want to know" She said, Harry gritted his teeth,  
  
"But I don't want to tell you is the problem." he responded  
  
"Why not, is it bad? It'd have to be if you don't want to tell me." Ginny grinned at something for a few seconds before continuing.  
  
"Either way, you still saved my life, so I still owe you a favor, so whatever it is, I'll keep quiet about it." Ginny brushed her hair back with one hand.  
  
"Besides, I made those sandwiches for you."  
  
Hary considered, she made a good point, those sandwiches were really good. She did deserve to know.  
  
"After I had defeated Malfoy he told me the countercurse that would heal you and begged me to kill him." Harry hesitated a moment, remembering.  
  
"I wanted to make sure it worked before granting his wish, but when you started to wake I didn't want you to see what I was about to do, so I stunned you." Ginny shook her head, "You killed a helpless man because he asked you to?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"That's so, wrong." Ginny said, her brow tense.  
  
"Is it really?" Harry asked, "As I see it if someone asks they should be allowed not to live if they don't want to."  
  
"Are you seriously advocating suicide?" Ginny asked, suprised  
  
Harry considered, "In some cases, yes, I suppose I am."  
  
"No, I can't agree, not one iota!" Ginny exclaimed. "You can't just decide to die as simple as that, life is too dynamic and special to end so arbitrarily."  
  
Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned toward the Burrow. Ginny fell in step next to him.  
  
"But of course, being a boy, even if I did the impossible and convinced you of something you didn't believe in the first place you'd never admit it. Far too stubborn the lot of you."  
  
"Are girls any different?" Harry asked through gritted teeth. Ginny took a moment, then burst out laughing.  
  
"Oh Harry, sometimes you have a way with words." Ginny said as her fit wore down. Harry didn't know what to say. She was confusing as hell when she wanted to be. But even if she was confusing, at least she was still nice about it. Harry suddently regretted that she wasn't going to be around him at school. Harry cursed social codes not for the first time in his life. Playground stereotype or not Harry had always been the social outcast. Whether it was while being beaten up by his cousin or being gossiped about in the wizarding world it was always the same. Just that in one no one knew who he was and in the other everyone thought they knew who he was.  
  
"Hey, Harry, are you coming?" Ginny was at the door already.  
  
"Of course." Harry said, crossing the threshold ahead of Ginny.  
  
The next several days passed quickly but peacefully for Harry and the other Weasleys. Harry's burns healed quickly, peeling painfully on the second day, but being more or less healed after another. Harry's days were often split between chatting with Ginny under the shady trees and playing Quiddich or Chess with Ron. Once Harry and Ron took the Knight Bus into London to meet Hermione and buy school supplies. They offered to take Ginny along, but she opted to stay behind and write a letter to Dean.  
  
"Bloody git." Ron had said. Harry never really understood Ron's hatred of all Ginny's boyfriends, but for once he shared his sentiment, Dean was the reason Ginny couldn't be his friend, which seemed monstrously unfair to Harry. Still, Harry had a good time, he also found enough excuses to venture out on his own that he was sure Hermione and Ron enjoyed themselves as well, even if every time he met back up with them they were arguing.  
  
The day soon arrived when they were set to go back to Hogwarts. That morning Harry, Ron and Ginny woke up early to avoid having a hectic rush at the last minute. Even so their morning was hardly peaceful. Harry kept locking his trunk only to turn around and see something he forgot to put in. Ron was swearing as he overturned his bedclothes looking for something. After they were finally ready they had to wait ten more minutes before Ginny finally came down the stairs, appologising profusely. They were just in time for the train, Ron stepping on just as it began moving. They scouted the train for some time before they came to the car where Neville, Luna and Hermione were sitting.  
  
"There you are, why are you always late?"  
  
"Nice to see you again too Hermione."  
  
Harry and Ron took their seats on either side of Hermione, Ginny sat between Neville and Luna. It occurred to Harry that this was the same group that had faced the trials at the Department of Mysteries at the end of the previous year. They looked around at one another, each with their minds on the events of that night. There are some things that you can't share without ending up friends, knocking out a twelve foot mountain troll is one of them, but falling into a trap set by cold blooded murderers and escaping with their lives is another.  
  
"Luna, how was Sweeden?" Harry found himself asking. Soon the car was buzzing with conversation, some about crumple horned snorknaks, but most about a mostly peaceful summer spent abroad or at home. The six of them were enjoying a nice quiet train ride with friends. Then things started getting complicated. The door opened and Dean Thomas stepped in.  
  
"Ginny, where have you been, I was looking forward to meeting you..." Harry, who's eyes had been on Ginny when the door opened saw the look of horror that crossed her eyes momentarily when the door opened. Harry's mind might not be the sharpest of his age, but every once in a while he could really come to an impressive conclusion. He redirected his face towards the window, glad that he had changed into his wizard robes so soon, he was fairly certain any distinguishing characteristics were covered up by the wide brimmed wizard hat and the fact that he was facing the other direction. Dean would probably be hard to convince otherwise if he drew the wrong conclusion from seeing them in the same compartment together after Harry had saved her life. As such, to Harry, the ensuing conversation was only perceived through auditory perception, his eyes only seeing the landscape speeding by outside.  
  
"Dean, what are you doing here?" Ginny's voice asked  
  
"Well, I thought you might want to see me again, I mean, I've wanted to see you and your letters..." Dean stumbled about to explain.  
  
"Maybe she just wasn't as excited as you thought." Ron said, Harry began to sweat. Anybody who was paying attention at Hogwarts knew that Ron and Hermione were Harry's best friends, so if Dean had his wits about him he probably already knew who the one unidentified wizard in that compartment was. The very thing Ginny had feared about going back to Hogwarts was a hairsbreadth away from occuring and there was nothing Harry could think to do about it.  
  
"Shut up Ron, I was just talking with some friends I haven't seen in a while, I was going to come find you in just a few minutes." Ginny said, talking a little faster than normal.  
  
"Alright, er... do you want me to just wait outside then?" Dean asked, a touch of nervousness and embarrassment in his voice.  
  
"No, that's alright, I'll just come with now." Ginny answered, "I wish you'd stop being such a git around my boyfriend." It was obvious she was talking to Ron. There was the sound of the door opening and closing. Harry waited a few seconds after it closed to finally, cautiously, peek out to see if the coast was clear.   
  
"Honestly Ron, you shouldn't be so overprotective. Ginny can probably take care of herself." Hermione was saying  
  
"It's not about whether she can take care of herself or not, it's about her being with the right guy." Ron said, rolling his eyes as if it were obvious.  
  
"Dean isn't right then I suppose?" Hermione asked, "Who would live up to your standards?" Ron didn't look at Harry, but it seemed like he wanted to.  
  
"Someone better than Dean." Ron said after a moment sitting unusually still.   
  
"Why did you hide your face when he came in Harry?" Neville asked. Harry hesitated, he didn't know what people's reactions to this would be, particularly Ron, who seemed intent on seeing his best friend and younger sibling together. Even so he explained what he and Ginny had discussed over the summer.  
  
"Load of rubbish if you ask me, Ginny should dump that guy if he's making her choose between him or her friends." Ron declared.   
  
Harry was about to disagree until he thought of how annoyed he would be if a girl wanted him to give up Ron and Hermione as friends. Hermione looked like she was planning on debating further when the door opened again, this time admitting Malfoy, on his own, wand drawn. Harry was too slow standing and was pushed back into his seat by an invisible hand. Neville and Ron began to get to their feet, drawing their wands, but Harry held up his hand.  
  
"Don't worry, this is between him and me."  
  
"Why the hell did you do it? Why did you have to kill him?" Malfoy took an advancing step into the compartment. Luna and Neville looked to Harry, they probably had not heard of what had been going on over the summer.   
  
Harry didn't want to admit it around his friends, he didn't really want to admit it to Malfoy either, he didn't even want to admit to himself, but the invisible hand was still firm against his chest and he wasn't about to let his friends defend his trespasses against the Malfoy clan.  
  
"That depends on who you're talking about, once was an accident, the other was..." Harry closed his eyes for a moment, hesitating, "The other was a mistake."   
  
"Which was it then, Potter, was killing my father an accident or a mistake?" Draco's voice began to rise. The pressure on Harry's chest grew stronger.  
  
"A mistake..." Harry grunted in pain, he heard his ribs creaking from the force, "...I didn't realize the consequences of my actions, but he wanted me to... oof... warn you not to follow Voldemort."  
  
"He said that to you?" Malfoy snorted with derision, "I Don't believe you for a second." Harry felt a spark of anger surge forth from nowhere, "Fine, don't believe your dad's last words, see if I give a shit... I don't care about you so there's no reason I'd want you to keep from destroying yourself. He said that Voldemort's path isn't the right one, take it or leave it, I don't care." Draco's eyes glinted for a moment, then the invisible pressure lifted and Malfoy disappeared out of the compartment. There was an awkward silence between them for a short time. Harry's companions wanted to ask what Malfoy had been talking about, but didn't know if it was okay to ask. It was Luna that stepped forth and asked the question they were all thinking.  
  
"Who was the other person, the accident?" She asked in a light, almost uncaring tone.  
  
"Rodolphus Lestrange." Harry said in a cold, regretful voice. Neville drew in a strangled gasp.  
  
"I'm sorry Neville." Harry said, Neville looked puzzled.  
  
"Why are you appologising? I've got no love for him or his wife." Harry was silent, keeping to himself that he thought, himself in that situation would want to kill them with his own hand. He wondered if he was changing inside, becoming more violent. Becoming a killer. No, it was too late for that, he had already become a killer.  
  
"When did that happen?" Ron asked, genuinely suprised  
  
"The day George died." Harry answered dryly, "I didn't mean to kill him, it was..." Harry trailed off.  
  
"An accident?" Hermione supplied. Harry nodded.  
  
"Look, can we change the subject, it's not exactly something I'm comfortable with."  
  
Conversation was a little awkward amongst the group for the remainder of the train ride but by the time they were pulling to a stop they were once again in good spirits, but Harry still felt uncomfortable in his own skin. A short carriage ride later they were finally at the castle, seated in the great hall and ready for another great welcoming feast. Ron's eyes wandered to the staff table, looking to find who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher would be. When his eyes fell on the only new face amongst all the familiar teachers he had to assume the worst.  
  
"Harry, look who the new teacher is." Ron pointed directly to the grim faced young man. Vicktor Krum was their new professor.  
  
"Can you believe it?" Ron asked, looking around the table. Hermione looked distinctly unsurprised. This didn't escape Ron's notice.  
  
"Hermione, aren't you surprised to see Vicky again after so long?" Hermione went pink.  
  
"You don't seem to be, I wonder how it is you were expecting him to be here." Ron was being a little vindictive.  
  
"He might have mentioned in one of his letters that he had taken the job." Hermione mumbled  
  
"Funny, I don't recall you telling me, did she tell you Harry?" Harry didn't want to get involved, but shook his head.  
  
"Hmm, that's odd. I'm sure you're happy to be taught by Vicky."  
  
"Stow it, Ron."  
  
"Alright, I'll be quiet, but just to let you know, there's a stigma attached to having a relationship with a teacher." Hermione stood.  
  
"Ron. You're so..." her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, "...mean." she hurried away, wiping at her eyes. Ron stood and started following her.  
  
"Where are you going? The feast's about to start." Ron's voice dropped the cruel note that had been in it earlier.  
  
"I need to use the bathroom, leave me alone." Hermione disappeared out the doors to the great hall. Ron sat down dejectedly.  
  
Shortly the year's first years were paraded before them and sorted into their houses. Harry and Ron applauding along with the rest of the Gryffindors when a first year was chosen for their house. One of them tried sitting next to Ron, in Hermione's vacated seat. Ron glared at the poor boy, growling, "That seat is for someone else." At which point the first year sprang up and stepped away, a scared look on his face. Neville took pity on the young lad, inviting him to sit in the vacant seat next to him. When the last person with a ridiculous name starting with an "X" was sorted into Ravenclaw, Dumbledore stood to deliver his pre-feast speech.  
  
"Greetings and welcome back. As always I'll keep my speeches to a minimum. I'm sure the treacle tart is much more interesting than the words of one old man's ramblings. I just want to remind all of our returning students and inform those who are new to Hogwarts that the Forbidden Forest is just that, forbidden to all students. Wandering the castle after hours is against the rules and having a bad disposition during a holiday is strictly prohibited." Dumbledore grinned, "With that, I announce the start of the feast." This final statement was met with cheering as food appeared before the hungry students.  
  
A.N.: This chapter was darn tootin' hard to write, I couldn't get anybody's reactions right and I'm still woefully dissappointed in Draco's role and Dumbledore is my number one hardest to write character. I had to cut this chapter short because of the character limitation of Notepad... and I've lamented the flaws of using wordpad much already. I think the next couple chapters are gonna take a long time, even for me. My problem is that I know what will happen at the end, but I have no idea what's going to go on between now and then.   
  
Another problem I'm having trouble with is the fact that I don't feel like I'm getting a lot of readers. I say this because I don't get many reviews. This is unfortunately due to my R rating and the fact that there is character death. I say unfortunately because this story quite obviously cannot be anything but R rated. I'm beginning to feel a little frustrated by this... I don't know why I'd be writing if I didn't want readers to read it and I almost feel like I'm not getting exposure on the largest fanfiction website I know about. This is leading me on a slippery slope to a place I swore I would never go when I started writing fanfiction on this site. That's right, I'm about to beg for reviews... please don't make me have to do that... please. 


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